Well, if you give me ten bytches, then I'll fukk all ten
See my homie Snoop Dogg sippin'
juice and gin
Don't slip, I'm for the set-trip to get papers
Styles vary, packin' flavor like Lifesavers
Ain't that somethin'? Talk shyt and I'm dumpin'
I had your whole fukkin' block bumpin'
Don't sweat, but check the technique,
I'm unique like China
You'll never find a bomber rhymer than this nikka behind ya
So peek-a-boo, clear the way, I'm comin' through
One-two, three — you can't see me
I'm a G like that, strapped with hit-hard tactics
A fukkin' menace, usin' hoes like tennis rackets
It's on again, it's on and poppin'
All I see is green, so there ain't no stoppin'
I wanna see some panties droppin'
I'm comin' from L.A, she used to chill with Dre up in Compton
(All I ever did was just use that ho
Show her my dikkies, get with these, and kick flows)
I’m dishin' out blues, I’m upsettin' like bad news
Cut off khakis, french braids, and house shoes
Kurupt, the name’s often marked for catchin' slugs
And I smoke weed for the fukk of it
Rough and rugged shyt, it’s unexplanatory how I gets wicked
But it’s mandatory that I kick it
Check it, I’m runnin' hoes in '94, now must I prove it
Hoes call me Sugar Ray for the way I be stickin' and movin'
Prepare for a war, it’s on
I’m head huntin', hit the button, and light shyt up like Red Dawn
Peep the massacre from a verbal assassin
Murderin' with rhymes packin' TEC-9’s for some action
You really don’t know, do you? You fukkin' wit a hog
You can’t do me, I’m goin' out looney like O-Dog